


Absolution

by alias3275 (saidanon)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saidanon/pseuds/alias3275
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everybody here has their own story, Captain. Now you know mine. I'm not looking for redemption. I'm just a broken man seeking absolution." He didn't know it but he would be the one to mend her heart while she would heal his soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ripples

**Ripples**

He glided through the still water, his shadow slicing through the silvery rippling patterns thrown onto the bottom of the pool by the hazy sunlight filtering through the skylight. His feet scraped against the bottom of the pool, a mass of bubbles erupting around him in an odd harmonization.

It was the early hours of the morning but Jellal was already up and about, getting his daily dose of morning exercise. It was a habit he had acquired when he had been part of the force back in the day. The fact that he still had constant nightmares, where he would bolt awake in a sweat several times during the night, was also another factor, but not one that he would openly admit.

He swept back his hair as he surfaced, one hand moving down to wipe away the water droplets on his face. Grunting, he placed both hands on the side of the pool and hoisted himself out of the water, twisting around so that he was sitting on the edge with his legs dangling in the water.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Jellal glanced at his watch without turning around to face the speaker. “What brings you here so early, Lily?”

“I’ve got a favor to ask of you. A friend of mine needs some help since her cardiovascular physiotherapist has fallen ill and can’t work with her.”

He ruffled his hair, the water droplets cool against his skin. He walked over to the deck chairs and grabbed a towel, proceeding to dry himself. “Sure, that’s not a problem. Let me check my schedule.”

“Sorry,” Lily said sheepishly. “I checked it for you and she’s coming in in an hour.”

“What?” Jellal’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Lily, you know I need time to read her file and maybe devise a treatment course!”

“Here you go.” The man held out the file as he rubbed the back of his head with a small chuckle. “It’s just a consult so it’ll be quick.”

Jellal took the file with a rueful shake of his head, a grin at the corner of his lips. “You owe me big time, Lily. Big time.”

Lily waved casually as he padded away and Jellal flipped open the file.

**Name: Erza Knightwalker**

**Department, Component or Branch: US Army**

**Rank: Captain**

**Role: Squad designated marksman**

A captain acting as the squad’s DM. That was certainly an interesting arrangement, but a glowing testament to her leadership and sniping skills on the other hand.

He flipped the page and started scanning through her medical history.

* * *

 

_“Sound off.”_

_The faint buzzing of static hummed in her right ear._

_“Sting in position.”_

_“Rogue in position.”_

_“Hughes in position.”_

_“Sugarboy in position.”_

_She adjusted the sniper so that it rested against her cheek. The air was still and there was no wind; perfect conditions for sniping. She did a quick calculation of the trajectory of the bullet._

_“You know the objective. Sugarboy will disarm the bomb. Rogue, Sting, you’ll cover his entry, and Hughes, take the rear. I’ll provide you with sniper cover. Get in and out quickly.”_

_“Copy that, Captain.”_

_Erza peered out from the ledge where she was perched. The four men had started to move in. Good. Everything was going according to plan._

_She tilted her head as she surveyed the abandoned factory through the lens of her scope. She didn’t expect to see any people considering the place was deserted but it seemed too quiet, eerie._

_Something moved in the distance and she cocked her rifle in that direction instinctively. A flash of metal under the sunlight and she pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrated the man’s skull and she bolted her gun, ejecting the empty casing._

_“We have company, keep your eyes open,” she barked out the command._

_Her men responded with a few whispered confirmations and she continued her surveillance when suddenly a burst of pain shot through her chest and the impact propelled her backwards. She let out a cry of pain and crashed onto the floor, her weapon clattering onto the ground._

_Erza rolled over onto her side, wincing as she felt the bullet tear apart the tissues in her chest, the blood pouring from the bullet hole. Looking up through a haze of pain, tears blurring her vision, her eyes widened as a flashing black box strapped to the side of a metal construction bar caught her eye._

_They had known of their arrival and had moved the bomb._

_Fuck._

_“Get out! The bomb is here, they’ve moved it!”_

_The timer counted down and Erza knew that there wasn’t enough time for her to defuse the bomb. Cursing loudly, she leapt over the ledge and down onto the roof of an adjacent building. She sprinted across the rooftops but she couldn’t outrun the explosion and she was sent flying through the air, the flames licking at her back as the rubble and debris rained down on her. She smashed onto the hard concrete, the flying shrapnel cutting and biting into her skin. The blood streaming from the cut on her head blinded her and she allowed the welcoming darkness to consume her._

* * *

 

He was late but in his defense, Lily had sprung this upon him and he had really needed a shower. The door swung open easily and he glanced down at his file, leafing through the pages once more.

“Sorry about the delay, Captain…” he faltered as he saw his patient.

She was not what he had expected. She was beautiful, very young. She looked nothing like a Captain of the army but being ex-military, he knew better than to judge a soldier based on his or her appearance. Rank was an indicator of one’s abilities but what really mattered was one’s performance on the field.

She was displeased with his tardiness, he could see it in her eyes, and he swallowed.

“I’m Jellal. I’ll be your cardiovascular physiotherapist for the next few weeks. Um, it looks like your wound has healed up nicely. The bullet just missed your heart but I’d like to keep an eye on it just to ensure that the torn tissues around it won’t affect your cardiovascular system.”

He pulled out a few loose sheets of paper, glancing over them. “Your EKG and echo tests are normal so today I’m just going to give your heart a stress test. Then I’ll devise a cardiac rehab program for you and we can start tomorrow.”

Jellal led her over to a treadmill. “Please.”

Erza complied wordlessly. He set the speed and angle of the treadmill and jotted down some notes as she jogged. She had no problems completing the course and she sat down opposite to him as he measure her pulse.

Her skin was soft to the touch, he mused to himself, the rhythmic pulsing throbbing gently under his fingers. He withdrew his hand with a polite smile.

“Your heart seems completely healthy. Does your chest hurt when you move?”

“There is still some residual pain around the bullet wound,” she replied.

“Alright then. We’ll work on that tomorrow.” He scribbled down some notes.

“Are you the one they call Mystogan?”

His hand froze mid-sentence. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard the rumors about you. You’re something like a legend among the corps.” Her expression was stoic but the confused edge in her tone betrayed her curiosity. “Why did you leave your branch 3 years ago? That was when the Petra War started and when we needed soldiers the most.”

Jellal shrugged. “I got...” he paused, struggling to choose the correct word, “tired…of that life.”

Her burning eyes narrowed slightly as their eyes met in a clash of different shades of brown. She was angry that he had supposedly skipped out on his duty, one that he was highly proficient at. It was understandable. The Petra War had been devastating for both countries and a sudden surge of anger and patriotism had swept through the country, resulting in many men and women enlisting. He had not been one of those.

“And you didn’t feel guilty that so many inexperienced people joined and died for this country when you could have saved so many lives?” She shot back.

Jellal’s fingers tightened around the pen, the only sign of discomfort that he allowed himself to show. It was subtle but her keen eyes did not miss this small detail.

“It wasn’t my fight,” he said slowly.

“When you join the armed forces, every fight is your fight. Your country’s cause is your cause. You shouldn’t pick and choose,” Erza replied.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of her words. “It’s complicated.”

“You were one of the best.”

“Is it fair to force me to put my life on the line for something I hold no feelings for anymore?”

“Tiring of that life seems like a pretty weak excuse when it comes down to a national emergency bordering on a world war.”

It was the tone that set him off.

There was a hole in his heart, a void within him. It was a wound that had never healed. He had never told anyone about the particular incident, but the way she kept prodding at it caused something within him to snap.

“I spent a few years with the Navy SEALs but I retired after 6 years when some shrapnel hit my eye.” His fingers traced the long scar slicing down across his right eye. “20/20 vision ruined.” He grinned to himself at the memory. “Then I joined the FBI Hostage Rescue Team. ” The grin slid off his face like butter on a hot knife.

His eyes were downcast as he reminisced about the past. The memories were clear as day, almost as if it had all only happened yesterday. He could hear her screams echoing in his head, could feel the gun in his shaking hands, the smell of gunpowder wafting in the air as he emptied his round in short explosive bursts of sparks; the hollow, golden shell casings raining down onto the ground in a smatter of tinkering chimes.

“I was sent to deal with a hostage situation 4 years ago as part of a ten man squad. I was squad leader.”

A soft tingling was spreading from his fingertips as the numbness started to settle in. His grip tightened around the paper file in an effort to steady himself.

_“Are you sure it’s Times Tower?” He croaked out._

_“Yes sir.”_

_His heart dropped to the pits of his stomach._

_“60 hostages, approximately 20 terrorists.” His throat was dry. “Took down 19 of them. The last one had a gun to her head.”_

_“Drop the weapon,” he shouted at the man._

_He was trembling so badly, knees weak, a sudden chill spreading across his chest. Her eyes were wide, body rigid with fear. This was the last terrorist and Jellal could end it now. One shot between the eyes and it could be all over._

_But it was her, and it could have been the fact that the terrorist pressed the barrel of the gun harder against her temple. It could have been the fact that he had panicked at the sight of her terror, that he had rushed himself and failed to aim, that he had miscalculated in the heat of the moment. But it didn’t matter either way because he had missed, whereas the other man didn’t._

He could feel the weight of her gaze on him but he looked away pointedly, fingers brushing at the smooth material between his fingertips. “I held, and still hold, the highest headshot ratio and accuracy record of 96%. Unfortunately, that day, I missed.”

The file slipped through his fingers, falling to the floor, the papers spilling out. Jellal didn’t seem to notice. He was in a trance-like state, staring at his palms in morbid fascination.

“They call me Mystogan, a word play on ‘Mist Gun’, because the enemy never knows where I’ll shoot from. I’m like the surrounding mist. I can shoot from any angle and I never miss.”

He could see the blood on his hands, feel the viscous liquid dripping down his hands as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He rubbed his right palm with his other hand, watching as the blood, her blood, was smeared across his skin, mixing in with the dust and grime.

“They call me a legend because that was the only casualty suffered in all the missions I have ever led.” He continued in a monotone voice. “But they know nothing. I was the reason she died,” his eyes met Erza’s blankly, “and I’m not just talking about me missing.”

Erza did not speak. On the outside, Jellal seemed like any average guy, but on the inside, there were shadowy demons, ones which had been suppressed for too long and were now running rampant. They were soldiers; they had seen unspeakable horrors on the battlefield but each and every one of them had their own special way of coping with the aftermath of nightmares. There was a twisted darkness within all of them and his had chosen to resurface now, with her serving as the catalyst.

“I was chosen to lead the team, but I should have turned it down because the location was where my girlfriend worked.” His jaw locked and she looked at him in horror as the pieces fell into place. “But I couldn’t because I needed to do it personally. I couldn't entrust her life to anyone else.”

“That was my mistake.” Jellal knelt down to gather the scattered sheets. “I missed, and he shot her point blank in front of me. She didn’t die instantaneously but it was obvious she wasn’t going to make it. I had to put her out of her misery myself. I quit the force after that and came here.” His voice shook. “Do I regret not returning for the Petra War? Not at all. Because I’m here, helping veterans and soldiers in another way.”

Erza stared at him in stunned silence.

“Everybody here has their own story, Captain.” He looked straight into her eyes as he stood up. “Now you know mine. See you tomorrow, same time, same place.”


	2. True Blood

** True Blood **

She leaned across the table to grab the apartment keys when a sudden burst of pain shot through her chest. Erza held in the low groan rumbling in her throat and let out a sigh, a hand massaging her chest. She had spent the last 4 months resting to allow her torn tissues to heal but this was a long road to recovery. It would take another 2 months of physiotherapy and physical evaluation before she would be allowed to start any serious training, let alone return to active duty.

She ran a hand through her crimson locks in frustration. That would add up to around 9 months of being out of action. Apart from the decline in form, her skills would also become rusty. And most importantly, her men needed her. Her country needed her.

But there was nothing she could do. It was essential that she follow the rehabilitation course if she wanted to speed up her recovery. Rushing it would probably only serve to worsen her current situation. That, of course, didn’t mean she had to feel happy about the arrangement.

The soldier slammed the door with more force than necessary. And then she took a deep breath.

2 months of rehabilitation with a physiotherapist she had misunderstood and so unwittingly awakened bitter memories for. This was going to be a very, very long 2 months.

* * *

 

Lily took a bite of his muffin, completely baffled as to his friend’s current state.

Jellal was pacing the room like a caged tiger, slowly and on edge but with a certain feline grace and strength. He would occasionally stop and stare out the window with a vacant expression, eyes glazed over as if he were delving back into the past.

“You ok, Jellal?”

The man’s jaw clenched at the question, the pinch between his eyebrows deepening.

He hadn’t thought about Ultear in 3 years. It had taken him one whole year to even stop thinking about her but truth be told, he had never actually gotten over the incident. His feelings had merely been suppressed to the point where it was rendered almost non-existent, almost as if it were all a terrible nightmare. He was in denial and he knew it but it had worked for 3 years. He had moved on, in a manner of speaking, but Erza, – his face darkened at the thought of her – she had managed to undo all his hard work in the space of 1 hour.

He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets so that Lily couldn’t see them shaking.

“Fine,” Jellal finally managed to bite out tersely.

There was nothing he could do but try once more to embark on that painstaking journey to put it all behind him like he had all those years ago and then everything would be fine.

Yes, everything would be fine. 

* * *

 

“I know it’s all written in the file but protocol dictates that I have to go through it with you again.” Jellal said as he sat down opposite to her. “The rehabilitation comes in 3 parts – medical evaluation, which we did yesterday; physical activity and psychosocial support. Physical activity is where you go through exercises under my direct supervision to ensure that your wound doesn’t reopen, your tissues don’t tear and so that I can monitor your heart, see if the injury has affected it since the bullet was lodged right next to it.”

The female nodded stoically and Jellal pushed up his glasses by the bridge. “I’d like for you to do some light running today, some gym work. Then we’ll gradually up the work rate with some swimming, boxing and maybe work in some active duty training like firearms training.”

He paused. Her upper back was stiff and her face was expressionless. Dressed in her usual green and brown army combat uniform and tan boots, Erza looked every bit the militant – professional, dedicated, serious. And that reminded Jellal of every bit of his past self – the hardened soldier with grim eyes not truly reflecting what he had seen or done, hiding within a broken shell of the man he used to be.

But they were soldiers. They had learned since day one how to distance themselves from the brutality of war, how to separate their emotions from their humanity. They had learned how to do it, but it was in no way easy to do. And in a way, Ultear’s death had pulled him off the battlefield but the detachment to his feelings were still buried within, lost in the depths of a never-ending abyss within his long corrupted soul.

He was finally learning to trust himself once more, he was learning to feel again, but his faith had been shaken yesterday, years of hard work undone in a flash and right now, he wasn’t quite sure how to cope with it all.

He leant forwards, hands laced together in front of him as he tried to focus at the task at hand once more.

“The last part is the psychosocial support. Some military personnel find it hard to return to active duty after having sustained a serious injury. Some find it hard to cope with the extended leave.” Jellal removed his glasses with one hand, the other ruffling his unruly hair. “It is part of my job to make sure that you adjust to your situation and I’m here to provide emotional support, psychological care.”

Erza bit back a sigh. She was _fine_. She didn’t need psychological care, especially not from a washed out veteran who had shot his own girlfriend. But she wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, and antagonizing her physiotherapist was **not** a smart move. So she settled for nodding once more.

Jellal smiled. “Great. Then let’s do some light running and gym work now.”

The two exited the room and made their way over to the gym next door. The walk was more than a little uncomfortable, with her feeling aggrieved at having to take such a long leave of absence, and with him still wrestling with the haunting memories that Erza had managed to drag up.

There were only a few people working inside the gym. Erza stripped off her uniform top without hesitation, leaving her in her black sports bra. The redhead bounded onto the treadmill lightly and Jellal set the speed and tilt for the machine. She jogged for half an hour without stopping as he adjusted the settings intermittently.

He was a patient man, she thought to herself. Serious about his work too. His eyes never strayed far from the treadmill, only occasionally glancing at her to check her fitness and breathing. They would sometimes fixate on her chest but not in an unpleasant, lecherous way. He was merely searching for signs of fatigue or labored breathing, maybe chest pains, and the knowledge left her feeling a little more comforted, a little more secure that he wasn’t just another of those chauvinistic men who thought little of her abilities because of her gender and simply ogled her body as if she were a piece of meat.

She studied him more closely as Jellal led her over to the Butterfly machine. He had just finished _watching_ her run for 30 minutes but there were no signs of boredom, not even the slightest. And now he was focused on her workout, arms folded, eyes unblinking as he jotted down the occasional note on his clipboard.

Her gaze trailed up his strong forearms, taking note of his muscular chest, his broad shoulders, the painful scar across his eye.It was a shame that he had retired from the forces, he was still in his prime at 28 and he would have been a great soldier, a great asset to his country. But then again, she couldn’t fault him. What had happened to him was an unspeakable tragedy and she had dredged up the memories. And in that moment, she felt a rare burst of guilt wash over her.

She gasped as a sharp pain struck her chest and Jellal knelt down beside her immediately.

“Stop. Let me check your wound.” Warm fingers brushed lightly against the scar just above her breast, prodding at it gently for signs of pain. “Does it hurt?” 

She shuddered, flushing a bright red as his hand moved over her breast. “Not right now.”

He exhaled and his warm breath caused her to shiver slightly. He must have noticed because he froze.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” Erza ground out between gritted teeth.

Jellal nodded and continued his inspection with a bit more force. She suddenly flinched as he pressed down on a particular spot, face contorting into a grimace. The man straightened up, a serious expression on his face, and opened his mouth to speak but a sudden uproar distracted him. 

“Ca-pi-tan!”

“Captain! How’re you doin’?”

“There she is!”

“Heya Captain!”

Four men dressed in the same army uniform stormed over to the two of them.

Erza looked surprised. “What are you guys doing here?” 

“We came to see how you were doing!” A blond man boomed loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m in the middle of a session,” Erza muttered, glancing at Jellal.

Jellal waved dismissively. “It’s no problem. Let’s take a 10 minute break.”

He scribbled something down on his notepad and shuffled a little way away in order to grant her some privacy. Looking up, he shot Lily a grin of acknowledgement as the other man passed by with his patient behind him.

“Hey doll face, what’s a sweet thing like you doing here?”

Lily looked amused and Jellal turned around incredulously at Lily’s patient’s question. Erza’s face was passive but Jellal could sense the murderous aura radiating from the 4 men standing beside her. He leant against the wall and waited for the scene to unfold in front of his very eyes.

Oh, this man was going to _die_.

The blond stepped forwards, the air around him crackling wickedly. He stopped in front of the other man, eyeing him with distaste. Green eyes flickered towards the rank insignia and the name patch on the man’s chest.

“Sting…” Erza growled warningly.

Sting ignored her, lips curling into a sneer. “Sergeant Major…Cobra, huh. Know your place. This is _Captain_ Knightwalker you’re speaking to. Disrespect her again and I’ll be reporting this to your captain.”

“But she’s…”

“Come on Erik,” Lily stepped in before the man could dig his own grave any deeper. “Good to see you, Erza.”

Erza nodded as the 4 men glowered at Cobra. 

“Leave it, Sting,” she said in a low voice when her lieutenant made to go after the officer. 

“But…”

“Let it go,” she sighed.

Sting made a strangled voice in the back of his throat and Erza stood up slowly. “Ok guys, get out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

A chorus of protests sprang up from her men but a look from Erza quelled their complaints.

“Alright, alright.” A raven held up his hands in defeat. “See you soon, Cap’n.”

The rest of the men filed out, mumbling their goodbyes.

Jellal approached the redhead with a wistful smile. “You have a good group of men under your command.”

“I know,” Erza said, eyes softening fondly. “They would follow me to hell and back.”

He couldn’t help but grin. She had obviously earned the respect and loyalty of her soldiers through hard work and sheer determination. Being a woman within the army was difficult, it was still pretty much a male-dominated organization and she would have been met with much skepticism and scorn. To rise to such a high rank and to have a unit like hers, it was a wonderful thing.

Jellal had had good men in his team once. Good, loyal men who had an uncanny sense of teamwork. They had been a good fireteam. But then, they had been assigned to different units and they had never reconvened again.

Laxus had been his rifleman. He had a reckless streak and storming bases were his favorite missions. But then his luck had finally run out one day and he had been killed during a raid gone wrong.

Simon had been his automatic rifleman and he had a knack for providing suppressive fire. He had died providing cover for his team but he had managed to save all 5 men in his unit. 

The last of the group was Elfman, the designated grenadier. He had both speed and vision and could anticipate incoming attacks easily. He had died honorably, shielding his charge with his own body when his team had been caught out of position.

Good men, he mused to himself. Good men.

It had been a long time since he had last thought of his old life though. Now all the nostalgia and bittersweet memories were flooding back to him, overwhelming him briefly. And it was all because of the redhead sitting in front of him.

He tapped at the ground with the tip of his boot. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself.

“Ok,” Jellal took up a stance, one foot in front of the other, knees bent slightly. “I need you to push me backwards by the shoulder as hard as you can.” 

She looked at him, confused as to his motive but she complied. She mirrored his stance and pushed as hard as she could. The pain in her chest returned as her muscles strained and she winced.

“Ok, stop. It seems like I’ve underestimated your injury. We need to start a bit slower. I don’t want you to tear anything.” Jellal paused for a moment. “We’ll do a week of swimming starting tomorrow, see how it goes.”

“Ok,” she said with a groan, a hand on her chest.

She looked like she wanted to say something more but then she stopped. Jellal looked at her curiously.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Come on, you can tell me.”

The soldier looked torn but she finally gave in to her curiousity.

“Are you…Faust’s son?” Erza asked.

Jellal stiffened.

“What?”

“I think we’ve actually met at the annual military party 5 years ago,” Erza continued. “I remember you vaguely.”

_“Are you General Faust’s son?”_

_Jellal tore his gaze away from the redhead across the room and smiled at the raven who had approached him._

_He gave a nervous chuckle. “Yes. Yes, I am.”_

_“I’m Ultear.”_

_He took her hand in his and placed a chaste kiss on the back._

_“I’m Jellal, it’s very nice to meet you.”_

He was surprised to find tears stinging his eyes and he fought to swallow the lump in his throat. Head bowed, eyes downcast, his grip tightened around his clipboard.

“No,” he finally choked out. “You must be mistaken. I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.” 

He turned away quickly and strode out of the gym.

Everything was coming back to him too quickly and it hurt so much.

It hurt so, damn, much.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot but it turns out that the piece would be too long since I still have to explore how Erza helps Jellal get over Ultear and for him to fall in love with her. So this is my first multi-chaptered story here. Hope you guys like it.


End file.
